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Seeing Jennifer Hudson stride into a room, looking casually chic in black leggings, tall high-heeled boots, and a loose black-and-white top — and with confidence to spare — it's hard to believe it once could be a challenge for her to get dressed in the morning. But that's because during her decade-long struggle with her weight, the A.M. ritual involved seeing what fit. Now that the 5' 10" star has whittled away an eye-popping 80 pounds on Weight Watchers and kept it off for over a year, she can hardly wait to fling open her closet doors each morning. "I feel like a doll that I get to dress up!" she says as she sinks into a chair. "It's crazy. They have to drag me off the red carpet! Because now it's like, 'You're going to take a picture of what I'm wearing? You're looking at me?' I live for it."

The 30-year-old star may now be a red carpet regular, but a diva she's not. Perhaps that's due to her time in the trenches and the hard knocks she endured on her rise to fame. After being eliminated on American Idol in 2004 (in what many thought was an unfair decision), she went on to win a Grammy for her self-titled debut album, and the girl who once sang on a cruise ship now sings for the President of the United States. Her film career has continued to gallop along, too, since she received an Oscar for her stunning turn in Dreamgirls as Effie White, the second banana in a sixties girl group (movie audiences often burst into applause after her heart-stopping delivery of the climactic "And I'm Telling You I'm Not Going"). Next up, she tackles a supporting role as a nun in April's big-screen version of The Three Stooges (yes, as in Moe, Larry, and Curly).

The Yo-Yo Years

Certainly her career is blazing hot, but Hudson is equally proud of how, after years of fruitless dieting, she finally transformed her eating habits and her body — a journey she chronicles in her new book, I Got This: How I Changed My Ways and Lost What Weighed Me Down (see GH's exclusive excerpt, "I Keep Her Memory Close"). It was a battle she'd been waging for a decade. Growing up, family life revolved around home-cooked food — and lots of it. Weekday breakfasts resembled a lavish hotel buffet: bacon, ham, or sausage plus pancakes, waffles, eggs, and biscuits for Jennifer and her siblings. Sunday dinners were pure comfort food. Typically, they'd dig into fried chicken with biscuits or pork chops smothered in gravy, mashed potatoes, and collard greens, followed by a hefty slice of pound cake that was so rich, family members joked that it must have two pounds of butter in it.

Though Hudson had been "the skinny one" in her family as a kid, she filled out a size 16 during her teen years. "That was normal in Chicago," she says. "But then I'd go to another city, and it was real culture shock. I'm like, Huh? Wait a minute — I'm a big girl?" Still, she assumed that people would be more focused on her formidable singing talent, which had been obvious since childhood, than on her silhouette.

She was wrong. At 19, she auditioned to be a backup singer for Barry Manilow. She was at her peak weight of 236 pounds, but her voice was astounding as she expertly belted out a gospel tune called "Silver and Gold." "I killed it," she recalls, adding that all the casting people — and Manilow himself — were "crazy excited" when she finished.

Elated, she waited in the hallway for someone to tell her when she would start work. Instead, she was given a dismissive "Thanks, but no thanks." She was heartbroken — and confused. "It took me years to finally realize that I didn't get the job because of my size," she says.

So it was not exactly a shocker when she faced similar obstacles on American Idol. "Early on, I remember one of the musical directors telling me that everything about me was too big," she says. "My voice, my size, and my personality." Defiant, Hudson asked her, "Isn't that what being a star is? Stars are larger than life!"

During her early 20s, Hudson tried to get her weight under control with drastic diets. "I would go on these detox programs — a total meat-tox, cheese-tox, and sugar-tox," she recalls, referencing the foods she banned from her diet. For weeks, she'd eat nothing but grilled chicken, brown rice, and broccoli, and she would get down to her plateau weight of about 193. "But eventually, the cravings got so bad that I just couldn't take it," she recalls. "I'd inevitably break down and eat a huge box of chicken wings." Mortified, she would immediately resume her extreme diet, repeating "the same pattern over and over," she says. In true yo-yo dieter style, she lost and regained the same 25 or 30 pounds multiple times.

The vicious circle only stopped in 2009, at a most counterintuitive moment: when she and her fiancé — David Otunga, a WWE wrestler who's also a Harvard Law School grad — became parents. "Everything changed the day my son, David Jr., was born," she says. "Motherhood brought tremendous responsibilities — but none greater than the obligation I felt to get healthy and be there for my son. David deserved to have a mama who could run after him without getting winded or getting tired, to have a role model who could teach him to make healthy food choices. I needed him to grow up with a mama who always would be there for him by caring enough about herself to take control of her health and her eating."

Lightening Strikes

So Hudson began to lose weight in earnest, knowing she had a very long way to go. After she gave birth, she was shocked to discover that she still weighed around 236 pounds ("the highest nonpregnancy number I had seen on the scale in many years"). Having delivered David Jr. by cesarean, she wasn't able to exercise at first, "but like my mother always said, where there is a will, there is a way," Hudson explains. "I could at least change my eating habits. That was one thing that I could control without even having to get off the couch."

She decided to try Weight Watchers because, with her constantly changing schedule, she needed a plan that was flexible, and she'd heard that its points system was just that. When her Weight Watchers counselor first paid a visit with snacks in tow, "I remember thinking, This woman is crazy — I can't lose weight eating these things," Hudson says, rolling her eyes. The counselor pressed on, telling her that popcorn, for instance, was only three points a bag. "She'd say, 'Did you know that popcorn is a grain with a lot of fiber in it?' " Hudson recalls. "But then she told me that a chicken wrap, which I thought was a smart choice, was one of the most fattening things you could have — 17 or 18 points! I couldn't believe it."

The reeducation process didn't end there; portion control also came into play. Hudson used to munch handfuls of trail mix without much thought, so her counselor suggested measuring it out into quarter-cup servings. And Hudson learned not to deny her cravings; she could still eat her beloved chicken wings, but six of them instead of a dozen, and only after she'd first had a green salad to fill up.

Still, she was so mistrustful of what her counselor said that for the first two weeks of her new regimen, she created her own Weight Watchers-like plan instead. By the second week, she had actually gained weight. That's when Hudson truly committed herself to the actual program, and a pleasant payoff awaited: She lost five pounds the first week.

While following the plan, Hudson got creative about satisfying her food yens. "What people need to know is that if you don't eat what you want, then you'll just continue to eat, because you're not fulfilled," she says. If you have a hankering that you can't shake, "figure out a concoction that tastes like what you're craving," she says. "Like, if you eat cashews and an apple together, it tastes exactly like a caramel apple, I promise!"

Hudson is a font of eating strategies and work-arounds, which she enthusiastically shares, best-girlfriend-style. "Honey, Popchips [potato chips that are popped, not fried or baked] are the absolute best snack," she says. "They are so good, especially the barbecue ones — and a regular-size bag is only three points!" If she wants tacos, she skips the sour cream and sticks to "the shell, the chicken, cheese, and spicy sauce." If she has sushi, she removes half the rice. "Just because they serve it to you doesn't mean you have to eat it that way," she explains with a shrug. She avoids the hidden fat in salad dressing by "taking some mustard, putting some Splenda or whatever in there, and swishing it up a little. It's zero points!"

"Oh! Here's another one," she says, leaning forward in her chair. "You know how you'll eat the same thing your kids are eating? Well, my son loves Oreos. So I eat one, but take the cream out — which deducts a point, at least, which I can save for something else," she says. "Trust me, just leave a hint of cream — that's all you need, especially with grown-up taste buds. All that sugar is for the babies."

When she does have a treat, she doesn't scarf it down the way a kid would. "I noticed that when I was home alone with Munchkin [her nickname for her son], I often found myself hitting the refrigerator," Hudson says. "I was often very tired from staying up at night with the baby and was just mindlessly eating." Teaching herself to be aware of every single mouthful, she says, "was a real game changer for me. Because if you can't acknowledge a problem, then how are you going to fix it?"

Now, when she wants a piece of chocolate, she makes a ritual out of it. "For me, it's as relaxing as a massage," she says. "I'll find a calm, peaceful moment, and I'll sit back and eat my chocolate, which I make sure is really good quality, too," she says. "Quality over quantity!"

Sweating it Out

As she recalibrated her eating habits, the self-described "cardio queen" also stepped up her exercise, mostly running and logging time on the StairMaster. "I was always active to a certain extent, but if you're not eating right, it doesn't matter," she says, shaking her head. "If you eat a banana pudding and then go run, you're only running off the calories you just ate, so you're really not losing anything."

So Hudson forced herself to stay in motion. If she found herself heading for the fridge, she'd head to the DVD player instead and pop in a workout DVD. Or she'd scoop up David Jr. and head outside. If she still found herself mindlessly reaching for snacks, she'd question herself about her motives, as Weight Watchers had taught her to do: "Food is meant to be used as fuel for our bodies. If you're using it for any other reasons, take a step back and ask yourself what's up," she says.

Hudson's goal was always to look slim but still curvy, not buff: "I don't even want muscular arms. I like a natural look," she insists. And she isn't a fan of extreme workouts. When she occasionally watches a weight-loss show on TV, she gets frustrated at the trainers. "Look at what you're doing to these people," she says, shaking her head. "People are throwing up, falling down, about to die. How is that supposed to help them? Forget it. [When I see that,] I'd rather be at home, overweight. I'm not knocking trainers, but that's not what an everyday person wants to do."

Hudson clearly sympathizes with the everyday person. Like all of us, she can have trouble getting motivated to hit the gym, so she's developed another unique trick for jump-starting a workout. "There would be times I would be sitting on the couch, like, Man, I really don't feel like working out," she says. "So I'd force myself to just get up and run — literally run — out the door." She laughs. "Because if you sit there and think about it, you're going to talk yourself out of it."

These days, the size-6 Hudson is on a maintenance plan, and rather than working out every day, which was her weight-loss regimen, she does it four times a week. And she says she has become so accustomed to healthy eating that she's lost the taste for the heavy fare of her youth, such as burgers. (So she probably won't be making much use of the free-burgers-for-life card reportedly given to her by her former employer, Burger King, where she worked as a teen.)

Hudson admits that when she dines at restaurants, where ingredients are often a mystery, she hounds the chef. "I am pretty much in the kitchen," she says. "I'll ask, 'What is in this? Can you tell me how many ounces it is? Do you use butter?' I have no problem telling my server that I want my chicken grilled with no sauce, my fish broiled with no butter, and my vegetable steamed instead of sautéed."

But mostly, she's a creature of habit who prepares and eats her "greatest hits" recipes. Breakfast is often an egg-white omelette with a little smoked salmon or turkey bacon, sometimes with toast; for lunch, she'll have thin-crust pizza loaded with healthy toppings or the salad she concocted from all her favorite ingredients — greens, goat cheese, shaved almonds, tangerines, dried cranberries, chicken, and vinaigrette dressing. "Mmm, it's like your taste buds are dancing," she says.

Because lunch is usually her biggest meal of the day, she has something smaller for dinner, depending on how many points she has left — anything from fruit to her healthy remake of a childhood meal: turkey wings (boiled, not fried, and then baked for a little crunch), sweet potato fries, and greens. Happily, her son is following her healthy example; he clamors for the greens. "It's the cutest thing," she says, "I'm like, 'Wow, this is really working.' " The other day, the two of them were watching TV, "and all he wanted to do was lie in Mommy's lap and eat cookies. But now he knows his limit. He sees Mommy's example and knows that he's going to get two, not the whole box." She smiles. "What's funny is that he's never known me overweight. If he sees a clip of the old Jennifer from Dreamgirls, he doesn't know who it is."

Of Faith and Family

Her face lights up when she talks about David Jr. — and the mention of his dad has the same effect. The highlight of her week, she says, is the trio's Sunday night ritual. "We have to have dinner together," she says. "It's all about family. I tell David, 'You and Munchkin stay on the couch and let me cook for you, because this is what my mom did.' I love those moments," she says with a smile. "Family makes a house a home."

Hudson brings up her late mother, Darnell Hudson Donerson, with affection, but does not comment on the fact that Donerson was murdered in 2008 along with Hudson's brother and 7-year-old nephew (her sister's estranged husband has been charged with the crimes). After the tragedy, Hudson shunned the spotlight for a time and reportedly coped with the help of friends, family, and prayer.

Faith has been a constant in her life. Hudson was raised Baptist and sang in the choir. At the age of 7, she was already performing at weddings, baptisms, and funerals. Growing up in the church, she says, was "the most stable foundation ever. It's like building a house on land versus sand." She describes her late grandmother as "the most religious woman in the world." The family was in church every day of the week for choir rehearsal or Bible study. "When my mom was secretary of the church, we'd have to go to church with her on Saturday so she could type up the programs for Sunday morning," she says. "Church, church, church! I loved it."

She tries to read from the Bible every day and every night, and she and Otunga attend services whenever their schedule allows, but that's not the only way she keeps herself connected to her past. Hudson tends to surround herself with those who have known her for many years, so that her feet stay firmly planted. Her assistant, Walter, for instance, has been a close friend of hers since the sixth grade (and happens to be a Cordon Bleu — trained chef, so he's the one who whips up those thin-crust pizzas for lunch). Hudson has a few intimate friends with whom she stays in touch, but her big family takes up most of her attention. "We pretty much grew up around all family and a few friends, and that's the way it still is," she says.

Even weight loss is a family affair. In late September, she opened the Weight Watchers Jennifer Hudson Center in her hometown, Chicago, where many members of her extended family now hold their meetings. "Over 75 of them are doing Weight Watchers, and they've lost over 2,000 pounds altogether," she says proudly. "My cousin beat me — she's lost 112 pounds!"

That's not to say that Hudson and Otunga don't cherish some family-free couple time. Otunga may look fierce in the wrestling ring, but he's an old-fashioned romantic and a very big fan of Valentine's Day. "Let me tell you, this man goes bananas," Hudson declares. "When I wake up that morning in February, I can't see through the house because he's got confetti and balloons everywhere, rose petals on the floor, and candles in every single room."

Even with this kind of lavish treatment, Hudson remains a down-to-earth Midwestern girl. For her recent 30th birthday, her sister, Julia, asked for gift ideas. Hudson's request: a tin filled with popcorn from a favorite local store called Let's Get Poppin. "But the gift that I wanted was the nutrition facts, which Julia got for me!" she says with a laugh. "Now I know that the caramel popcorn is four points a cup while the cheese popcorn is five; I know exactly what I'm putting in my body. And that makes me so happy!" Spoken like someone who's truly won the losing game.

My family always says my voice is a gift — a precious jewel I inherited from my maternal grandma, Julia Kate Hudson. My sister and I used to joke that the "Kates" in our family got all the talent. (My middle name is Kate, and one of my names in my family is Jenny Kate — which I call myself when I'm just being me, hanging out and doing ordinary things.) People often spoke of how beautifully my grandmother could sing. She was also the sweetest, kindest, most loving and giving woman. I absolutely loved spending time with her, and especially listening to her sing. She loved to sing hymns and praise God with her voice.

Grandma's house had high ceilings and hardwood floors. The openness created a sound as if I was singing into a microphone. I would sit on her stairs and just sing my heart out. We have a lot of great singers in our family, so my voice wasn't all that unusual, but some of my older family members told me I had "the gift." They also often said I reminded them of my grandma. People responded to my voice when I started singing in church or at local talent shows. People would come from all over Chicago just to hear me sing. I became aware that I could move them with my music and I liked the way it felt.

There was a certain sense of power that came with capturing my audience that left me wanting more. Even though Grandma had a beautiful voice, she used to tell me that she never wanted to become famous because she'd have to perform on demand even if she didn't feel like it — what we would call being "on" today. Grandma was perfectly content singing for the Lord. I remember being mesmerized watching her sing in our church choir. She did more than one hundred solos in that church. Grandma's love for gospel is the reason I make sure to have at least one inspirational song on my albums. It is my way of keeping her close, even now.

Around my 13th birthday, Grandma had her first stroke and then started having seizures. I was always quick to volunteer to spend the day at her house so she wouldn't get lonely. There were some good days when she'd be up and well, singing her hymns, but then there were days when she couldn't get out of bed. Those days were my inspiration to write my first song — called "To Love Somebody," so Grandma would know how much she meant to me. I sat on the side of her bed and sang it to her: It feels good to love somebody, but it hurts to let them go. And it hurts to love somebody when you know you have to let them go. Grandma passed away when I was 16. Since then, I've carried a heart-shaped stone with me wherever I go, as a way to connect to my grandma. I inherited her gift, and I try to keep her memory close. Instead of wallowing in my sadness, I vowed that I would go on with my life, follow my dream, and make good decisions along the way so I would make her proud.

Excerpted from I Got This (c) 2011 by JHud Productions, Inc. Reprinted by arrangement with Dutton, a member of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.